An Intervention of the Unhelpful Kind
by The Munch
Summary: Ever wonder how exactly Near employed Gevanni to join the SPK? Well, here is a take on it of a different perspective Enjoy! Rated to be safe!


**Hullo everyone! Here's another Gevanni One-shot for ya! ^^ This time, however, it features a bit of Near... Yup. You may not understand much of this, but if you read "Chicago Skies" by Firuko (me and my friend Haruko ^^) it should make things a little bit clearer. **

**I dedicate this fic to Sammy, 'cause I never wrote her her birthday fic... and considering she plays Near this works well ^^. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Gevanni, Near, Death Note... I wish I did, but alas I do not! **

**Without further ado... please enjoy! ^^**

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Stephen had returned home for the night, having decided that it would be nice to spend a night by himself without the hustle and bustle of bars and "colleagues" and people. While the apartment he lived in was relatively small (well, compared to many people's he had seen who were as successful), it was well furnished. It was nothing like the first apartments he had lived in after being kicked out. The appliances in the kitchen gleamed from their stainless steel faces and were of nice make and quality (he was rather fond of cooking, actually, as well. His family did have quite a few recipes after all). The other pieces of furniture included a small table with one chair, a sofa of small size, and a desk and one chair there. It became obvious that the young man did not entertain, or even really bring people to his abode. It's very neat quality also could have suggested very little time was spent here even by the sole occupant. When their profession was a professional thief, and an increasingly successful one at that, one didn't have time to spend there. The more time he spent there also increased its chances of being found out. And considering how fond he was of this apartment, he did not want that to happen.

He set down his laptop on the desk, sliding the computer of it and leaving it there on the desk, as he normally did upon returning home. For having had little to no experience with computers in his formal education, the computer in mention had become very important in working things out for his "profession". Any more, it hardly wasn't used in those cases. He left the computer sitting there for the moment and headed into the bedroom to shower.

The bedroom, a smaller room that split off from the main apartment, contained the simple necessities of a bedroom. There was a bed that looked like it hadn't been used in a while, a dresser, and a small night table by the bed. The night table was home to a small lamp and an alarm clock that flashed the time of day in bold, red numbers. The only thing that would have stuck out and pegged the room as belonging to an individual were the various picture frames that were house on top of the dresser, which contained a collection of pictures of a family. If he was caught standing in front of them long enough, the resemblance could be seen to those in the pictures sitting there. His crystal blue eyes were almost exactly the same color and shape as the older man featured in a number of the photos, while his raven-colored hair matched both the woman and young girl that completed the trio of people pictured there. It was his family, at least pictures of who they had been when he had left the house nearly eight years previous. It was all that he had left of them, as he had not seen them since. As he pulled out a set of more casual clothing from the dresser they sat on, his eyes drifted across the collection, causing a sigh to escape the young man. It had been a long time since he had seen them. Claire would be in her later years of high school…

Stephen turned abruptly away from the pictures, slamming the drawer he had been retrieving something from shut. The prolonged loss of contact with his family was a point of soreness with the young man. He had never expected it to last quite this long or be quite this fierce when he had walked out the door eight years previous. He wasn't sure what he had expected to happen anymore, but whatever he had hoped had yet to happen. He doubted he could ever go back to see them. In those eight years since he had left, he had made quite a few enemies that could put his family in danger. Not to mention, if his father found out what his son was involved in there would just be another shouting match and he would be kicked out of the house yet again. There were a number of complications to the issue that made it near impossible for him to ever see his family again. Even though he acknowledged it, it did not stop the thoughts from buzzing uncomfortably in his head as he showered.

After some time, the young man walked back into the main room of his apartment, now clad in simple attire (in the form of jeans and a worn t-shirt). The room seemed to be normal, for the most part at least, but to those trained to look for differences and find them before it meant getting caught yourself, something was… off. Almost the moment that this thought crossed his mind; the laptop he had left on the desk previously gave a shrill beep. Looking over, he noticed that the computer seemed to be on, when he was sure that it had been off when he had gone to enter the shower. The computer was still closed, however, even if the light signaling the power was on was gleaming brightly on its edge. Even if he hadn't been completely sure if he hadn't turned his computer on before his shower, he was sure now. The computer would not be closed and on if he had turned it on himself before he moved on. This sent a whole number of warnings whirring in his head. Curious as to how this could have happened, and what might be going on, he walked over to the desk and, sitting down, opened the laptop.

The screen immediately came to life when it was opened. Everything looked normal, the desk top showing all the normal signs of a computer that had just been turned on and was ready to be used. Still finding this odd, he ran the computer through a few checks that would alert him if anybody had used the computer physically while he had been in the other room. When these checked out to be completely clear, showing no one had been operating the computer at his desk, the happening became disturbing. If the computer hadn't malfunctioned, causing it to turn on suddenly, then it meant someone was accessing his computer from somewhere outside the confines of his apartment… Which meant it was someone with incredible computer skills and most likely someone he did not want to come face to face with.

While he sat contemplating what could have happened to cause this, the screen suddenly went completely blank, a blinding white color. Blinking he was taken by complete surprise, especially when a stylized "N" appeared on the screen before him. N? Was this some kind of prank? Was somebody trying to scare him out of his job and out of competition? Because if this was their greatest idea on how to do it, than he certainly wasn't going to fall for it. He'd dealt with too much to be scared by this. He certainly was not expecting what happened next.

"_Hello, Mr. Loud." _

The synthesized voice sent a chill down his spine simply from its tone, and the shock of someone speaking to him through his computer. Something about the tone alerted him that whoever it was, they meant business.

"_In order to confirm that this is, in fact, Stephen Loud that I am speaking to, I need you fill in some information that would be pertinent and known by him into the computer. Once your identity has been confirmed, we can move on to other business. I have a pressing matter discuss with you," _the voice continued, as if unperturbed by the fact that it had gotten no response at all yet. Stephen was sitting, now slightly shocked and slightly annoyed by the intruder on his computer. What right had they to demand such information and cooperation? What made them think he was going to respond?

"_Stephen, I assure you that you will want to cooperate with us. Please respond accordingly," _it said when he still had yet to respond or make any sign to show that he was there. Stephen sighed, shaking his head as he placed his fingers on the keyboard. He couldn't believe he was actually going to play along with this unwelcome and mysterious intruder.

"Fine then," he typed back, blinking as the "N" was replaced with the words he had typed. "As to personal information… my full name is Stephen Antonio Loud and I have only one sibling. This sibling would be a sister ten years younger than myself, full name Claire Francesca Loud and is about ten years younger than myself. My parents are Jonathan Alexander Loud and Maria Chiara Loud. The reason I maintain a residence by myself is that my parents kicked me out when I was nineteen because I dropped out of college," he typed as quickly as he could. It was not information that was well known by any of the acquaintances he currently kept, and so it should be some information that would confirm his identity to a person who had done their research in trying to make sure they got the right man. However, it wasn't incredibly private information either, all things considered. As stated, anyone who had done some research could have rehashed that. It was all he could dredge up at the moment, though. It was possibly he had lost many of the facts of his own life under the sea of aliases and back histories he had been required to fabricate over the years he had spent in his profession. Thus, the memories had become marred by too many other threads of stories and details of lives that didn't belong to him that his own had become lost. He could only remember his own life as basic facts and ideas. He only hope what he had given would suffice and keep his mysterious intruder from pursuing more.

"_Very well then, Mr. Loud,"_ the voice responded simply, not even a tiny shred of emotion able to be found in the synthesized voice. It sounded like even if it weren't being manipulated by some sound device that it would have very little emotion to it.

"_At this point, our conversation over this medium is finished. Expect a phone call on your private line as soon as this connection in terminated, Mr. Loud. On this secure line we will discuss the matters at hand at length and finalize the arrangements," _it said with such a sense of finality it felt as if he had already agreed to some unknown contract with the person who had hacked into his computer and demanded his attention and information so boldly. He scowled, and wasn't sure he even wanted to pick up the phone when the time came. Something in the back of his head told him that it was better to just walk away and not pursue and demand more information on this matter.

The screen of his computer abruptly changed back to the plain desktop that it normally displayed when he had just opened it, which he assumed meant the connection had been terminated. He waited, listening for the sound of a phone ringing to signify that this person was following their own parameters. Sure enough, within moments of him listening in for the phone, his cell phone went off with an incoming call from a restricted number. He had figured that whoever it was would have a number that could not be traced… Despite himself and all qualms he had about this person and what they were assuming he would do, Stephen found himself picking up the phone.

"Ah, Mr. Loud, I see that you have decided to cooperate with us for the time. That is fortunate," a person, whom he assumed was the source of the synthesized voice from his computer, stated as soon as he had picked up the phone and held it to his ear. The voice itself sounded like it could have come from a young boy who was maybe a teenager, but had a deeper sense of wisdom and intelligence behind it that gave it the weight of someone much older. This only led to further questions on who this person who was contacting him was, and what exactly they wanted.

"What the hell makes you think I am going to just cooperate?" he responded, letting some of the anger and aggression he felt leak into his voice. "You're going to have to explain yourself before I even think about helping you."

"Mr. Loud, you will cooperate with us because you have no other choices in the matter. If you were to refuse us your cooperation, then a file containing information that would connect you to enough robberies and criminal acts to incarcerate you until you are quite old will be given to the authorities. This, along with your current locations of interest would lead to your being apprehended."

Stephen froze in his seat at that statement. If he had not been clutching the phone tightly out of previous anger and irritation he most likely would have dropped the phone. As the feeling of dread began to set in he felt as if someone had doused him in cold water. How could someone have such information? He was always extremely careful when performing heists, had never made an error before. Even the FBI had been unable to successfully catch him when they had tried years ago, and he had successfully quashed any further attempts they would make. It only led his shocked mind to one question: _Who was this guy?_

"There is no way you could have any information of the sort. If I was that big of a criminal, the FBI would be after me. Hell, they'd probably already have caught me," he responded, hoping his voice did not betray the bluff or how much the threat had impacted him. It was also his last shred of hope, that whoever it was, they were only bluffing to try and scare or pin him with as self-admission.

"Mr. Loud, if you are trying to call a bluff I can assure you that this statement is not one. In order to confirm this, I will show you." As soon as they had finished the statement, files began opening in rapid succession on his laptop, showing that even though the screen had returned to normal the connection had not been completely severed. As he looked through the files that were popping up on his computer, however, those last hopes he had began to shrivel and die rapidly. Each file he perused did, in fact, contain information that would pin a various number of his crimes on him beyond doubt. He had no idea exactly how this person had gotten this information or made the connections to lead to this, but they were there nonetheless. Regardless, it was there and the new found weight of the situation was settling around him. He was going to have to cooperate or he'd be in jail.

"Fine then," he growled, feeling like he was being muzzled and chained for what felt like the first time in a long while. "I will cooperate. What is it that I will be cooperating with exactly? Considering the choice you are giving me, I think I should know." His tone was bitter and laden with sarcasm and malice but somehow he didn't think the person on the other end cared.

"Mr. Loud, you are being recruited to the organization I have been put at the head of. I am sure that you have at least heard something about the Kira case. This organization is named the Special Provisions for Kira, or the SPK, and is designed to bring Kira to justice. It is compiled of CIA and FBI agents that meet the specific criteria I find to be necessary to finding and capturing Kira…"

"If this is a bunch of feds, then what place do I have in this organization?" Stephen interjected. He was curious as to what place a criminal would have with a group trained by the government. He also wanted nothing to do with people from an organization that had given him problems in the past. His frustration at this situation was about to make him burst like a balloon filled with too much air. Each comment from this person on the other end made him feel like the collar was being tightened around his neck inch by inch… Like shackles were being harnessed to his wrists and ankles. He was slowly being chained in by the situation and the inability to escape.

"You have skills and mannerisms in your work that intrigue me, Mr. Loud. They are skills taught but not honed in many agents, while you seem quite adept at them. I also believe that your status will provide and interesting element of thought to our case. Your skills and background will better our ability to capture Kira," the voice responded flatly, as if it was undisturbed by the interruption.

Stephen sat for a moment, wondering if this was the truth or if the person was just trying to flatter him to put him off guard. It wouldn't have been the first time someone had tried this, and he had done it himself. The whole situation was overwhelming. It was certainly not what he had expected when planning on a night at home. He was not even sure quite how to respond to the situation at hand. The choke collar that seemed to have been placed on him was not helping him to feel any better.

"Mr. Loud, will you still cooperate with us? Or will it be necessary to dispatch the proper authorities to your residence?" the voice said to once again break the silence and hurry along the conversation.

"Who are you? I'm not gonna make an agreement with someone whose name I don't even know," he said in response, tones rising in anger again.

"You may call me N, or Near, Mr. Loud."

Near? What kind of a name was that? Or course he had heard people refer to themselves by some weird names before, but not someone in a position this guy apparently was in. Those kind of names were used around town by low-lifes. Then again, with this Kira, aliases might prove important to people intent on going against him. Still, he could come up with a more believable and normal one than "Near". He supposed he couldn't much argue though. Whatever floated his boat. Regardless of name, he couldn't go against Near. Working for him sounded better than going to prison.

"Near," he said, making sure some degree of malice was clear in his voice, "I will work for you."

"Good," Near responded. "Now, listen carefully, Mr. Loud, and I will explain the details of how you will come to the SPK headquarters and begin working under us."

Stephen nodded, not feeling the need to say anything in response. He did not want to be pressed into service this way. He certainly did not want to risk his life to catch some serial killer knocking off people dumb enough to get stuck in prison… Then he realized that if he did not take this job he would be in prison, and thus bait for Kira. The collar tightened almost painfully at the thought, cementing further the force behind his having to join this organization in the first place.

"I will be dispatching one of the SPK's members to your residence from headquarter, so expect their arrival tomorrow. You will refer to him as Commander Rester, or simply Rester, which is an alias. You also require an alias, for safety measures. He will, thus, refer to you as Gevanni, and you will use this in all further dealings with the SPK..."

"Gevanni? That's not even a proper name…" he interrupted, more because he was not pleased with being told his name would be changed. Yes, he had agreed to work for Near, but he did not want to give up his name. It was one of the last things he had left to call his own honestly. Giving it up also meant losing a defining characteristic if his family was looking for him. Changing his name meant successfully blocking them from ever being able to find him.

"Mr. Gevanni," he said, unphased yet again and obviously not budging on the issue of aliases, "Commander Rester will have your travel arrangements set when he arrives and will accompany you back to our headquarters, where you will take up residence as well as work. While you are with us, the rent on your current residence will be maintained and meals and supplies will be provided. It should appear a favorable offer, Mr. Gevanni, you will do your work and everything else will be taken care of."

"Fine then," he repeated the phrase yet again. Even he couldn't deny that the offer was good for having been forced into it. He could live with it he supposed…

"Good. That is all then, Mr. Gevanni. I will look forward to making your acquaintance in the next few days," Near responded with words he believed were most like some degree of false. This person did not seem to be the kind to tell the whole truth if he could get by with just a little bit…

"Oh, and by the way, dress code requires a suit. If you do not have one, you should procure one before Rester arrives."

Crap, he hated wearing suits…

"Good day, Mr. Gevanni," Near finished the conversation there and the line went dead. The newly named Gevanni sighed, feeling the weight of all this upon him. There was nothing he could do, however. He stood, heading to his bedroom. Tomorrow was going to be a very long day indeed and sleep was necessary….

***FIN***

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**That is the end! Hope you enjoyed. Please employ the use of the two buttons down on the bottom! Fire would greatly appreciate it! ^^ **


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